


What Does The Puppy Do?

by tonystork



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Gen, I really do, Love you forever mention, May Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, because i had to get it out, because why not cry more, christmas is a tough time, i hope everyone can have at least a little bit of happiness at christmas time, more soul crushing sadness, not really angst, this was really hard for me to write emotionally
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 20:28:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16878639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonystork/pseuds/tonystork
Summary: Christmas isn't exactly easy for the Parkers. But it's okay, because they have each other.





	What Does The Puppy Do?

Peter’s heart was heavy as he strung up the first decoration. Ben had died around this time of year. December 19th, to be exact. This was their first year decorating without him. Neither of them wanted to do it without Ben, and weren’t sure if they could, but Tony convinced them. They thought it would be good to celebrate the holidays with their patchwork family. May, careful of sensitive ears, expressed a few concerns, but when she went to Peter about it, he seemed okay. After three years, this was the first year the holidays were visiting the Parker apartment. 

Tony and May kept a watchful eye on Peter at the beginning of the night, trying to gauge his reactions to the old tree decorations collecting dust in the box. To his credit, he was pretty good at hiding his emotions. Three years is a while to practice, after all. While his heart sank, his smile broadened.  _ For May _ .

“You know, we can’t decorate without music!” Peter said excitedly. May and Tony briefly exchanged glances before nodding along, carrying their own poker faces. Tony wordlessly queued up a Christmas playlist, and  _ of course  _ the first song was Mariah Carey. Tony almost couldn’t remember a Christmas before that iconic song, despite his hatred of the catchy tunes that started way too early. Peter’s eyes lit up as soon as he heard the first few notes. Despite the ache in his chest, his Christmas spirit took place over it as he sang along, voice cracks and all. For once, he didn’t even care that Tony was probably filming. He was just having fun. Peter wanted to have a good time, a  _ genuine  _ good time, so he tried to ignore the welling sadness inside of him. He lifted an old hanging frame of himself as a baby, laughing with a woman he vaguely remembered as his mom.

“What have you got there?” May asked him, leaning over his shoulder to peer at the old photo. “Aww, that one was taken when you were just a baby,” She said, re-telling the story Peter had heard a thousand times. “You were so little, but you might just remember how your mom used to do the puppy with you. She’d say, ‘What does the puppy do?’” Peter smiled, a brief but happy memory came forth as May spoke. Tony listened on from the couch, the story taking on a life of its own in his mind.

“Then, right when your eyes got big from all that anticipation, she would bury her nose in your neck and sniff all over like a puppy. Gosh, you used to just about fall over laughing.” May said as strongly as she could, while her smile fought with the lump in her throat. She loved her nephew, but god, she wished Mary were here. She knew Peter had a hole in his heart in the way only a mother could fix, despite how he probably didn’t even remember her. It seems around this time, everything is a bittersweet memory.

“I sort of remember...if I focus I can feel her.” Peter said, smiling sadly as he put his head on his aunt’s shoulder. He put the frame on the tree, right underneath where the angel would go. It was only fitting.

Peter continued to decorate the tree as the adults moved around the room, hanging wall decorations and snowflakes from the ceiling. The only immediate company Peter had was the Christmas music - and it was starting to get at him. He imagined all of these kids around the world, who either were having the best Christmas and didn’t yet know it, or were spending it alone. He thought of his uncle, and his mom and dad, and he felt the hurt rise against his joy. He tried to squish it down again as he forced himself to smile and hum to the music, but then he found another picture frame. This time, the memory that came with it hit him so hard his hand stopped for a moment. He just stood there as his breaths came in quiet, hiccuped pants. His shoulders drooped and his body lost all will to stay standing. He brought the frame over to the couch and, making sure he was at least partially hidden, Peter slowly let the tears fall out from where he was holding them. 

_ God, he missed his uncle. He missed his mom, and his dad, and his uncle, and his old life where he didn’t have to worry about things that a 17 year old boy shouldn’t have to worry about. He missed his old house, with his old room, with his old dog that he had to leave behind because his Aunt and Uncle’s place didn’t allow pets.  _ Peter sat there and cried for everything that he’d lost and would never find again. 

Tony was the first to notice that Peter was no longer decorating. Tony, with all his own misery and reasons to hate the holidays, felt his heart break for the kid who was crying silently on the couch, holding a family picture. He gently sat beside Peter and pulled him close as Peter let out a loud sob, which he immediately hushed. Tony sorrowfully wondered how many times Peter had cried himself to sleep to be so practiced at silent crying. He kissed the top of the kid’s head as he felt Peter dig closer into his side, curling into a ball. He felt every tremor and heard every quiet hiccup as the kid tried to calm himself down. Tony made eye contact with May from across the room, who was looking on with tears in her eyes. 

“Come on, let’s go for a drive, kiddo.” Tony said quietly, gently moving Peter from his side and helping him off the couch. May took a step towards them, but hesitated as she saw how Peter tried to hide his face. She looked at Tony, her eyebrows furrowed with worry. He nodded subtly as he held out Peter’s coat for him, putting one arm in at a time like a child. He knew the feeling of drowning well. As he accompanied Peter down the stairs, into the car, the pair didn’t exchange a single word. Just three squeezes of Tony’s hand around Peter’s fist. Those three meant so much to Tony that he couldn’t force his mouth to say.  _ It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. You’re not alone. We love you. _

The music in the car was definitely not about Christ as they made their way out of town. The water was sparkling as the lights from the city cast beautiful reflections. Peter’s eyes glistened as he thought about everything Tony and May were doing for him. He knew May was worried and sad, and Tony was sad for him, but they were both putting it aside for now.  _ Because they cared about him _ . As Tony reached for his hand over the console, Peter thought. Maybe he had no mom, no dad, no uncle...but he had an aunt and a mentor who both loved him very much.

By the time Tony and Peter made it back home, May had turned off the glow from the tree and the Christmas lights around the apartment. Peter felt tears spring to his eyes again as he felt...okay. He hugged May tightly from behind, surprising her enough that she almost dropped the hot chocolate she’d made for him. She put it on the counter as the turned to her nephew, brushing back his bangs comfortingly as she hugged him back, tears springing to her eyes. She rocked with him back and forth as Tony moved the mugs to the coffee table. In between shushing, May quietly hummed the words to a book that Mary had read to Peter every night as a baby. She hoped he remembered. 

_ “I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always, as long as I’m living, my baby you’ll be.” _

The way I figure it, the world takes, and it takes and it takes, but every so often, somebody will come along and make those bad things feel better. Not perfect, but just okay enough that they don’t ache as much as before. The past can be sad, but it doesn’t have to hurt anymore. 

**Author's Note:**

> So this story was really hard for me to write personally because everything in it is from my own life, from the puppy sniff to the breaking down at Christmas.. I've lost everyone but my brothers, my aunt and my grandma. I do enjoy having my patchwork family of friends, though. It makes it easier. Christmas has just been really difficult, emotionally, for the past few years for me, and I was thinking that Peter would probably feel about the same after all his loss. This was just a better way to get it out rather than keeping it in.


End file.
